Say Something
by TotalFanGirl221B
Summary: Sherlock and Irene are married and have a child; Hamish. They love life the way it is, and Sherlock loves Irene and Hamish so much. If anything were to happen to any of them, would he be able to cope? IMPORTANT NOTICE: LEAVE REVIEWS
1. Chapter 1

**Sorry it took so long, but here is the sequel! Enjoy and please review! :)**

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Irene slowly yawned as she opened her eyes and squinted as everything above her became clear. She stretched her arms high into the air and blinked slowly several times as she gradually sat up in the bed. She yawned once more before looking at the clock beside her bed to see what the time was. 07:15. She turned around to see an empty space in the bed. She'd woken to this every morning except weekends. She smiled to herself as she eventually removed the covers and got out of bed.

She stumbled into the kitchen to make herself a drink while Sherlock sat at his desk in the living room looking at some notes for a new case or something like that. When Irene's drink was ready, she sipped it and then walked over to Sherlock. She stood behind him for a moment and placed her drink on the side of the desk. She then slowly placed her arms around him, knelt down and kissed his cheek. He smiled and turned to kiss her softly on the lips and then she picked up her drink to take some more sips. "Is Hamish getting dressed?" Irene asked, holding her cup by the handle. Sherlock smiled and nodded, but had now turned back to his work. "What are you looking at? A new case?"

"Maybe. It doesn't seem of any interest yet." Sherlock said barely glancing at her. She just smiled and went back into the kitchen. As she did so, she called Hamish. Suddenly, the small boy almost ran out of his room and threw his bag onto the floor.

"Calm down, Hamish." Irene smiled to him as he ran into the kitchen. She ruffled his hair gently and then kissed his forehead. "Has your dad made you breakfast?" Hamish nodded. "Have you brushed your teeth? Got everything ready?" Hamish nodded again twice and smiled. "Good, now go and get your coat on, you'll be leaving in a minute." it was barely before she finished her sentence that Hamish left to go and grab his coat from the hall.

Sherlock left his desk at almost the same time and went into the kitchen. He kissed Irene gently on her lips and then he left to take Hamish to school. Irene waved them both goodbye from the living room window, and they both hopped into the car.

Sherlock and Hamish sat quietly in the car; Hamish in the back, Sherlock in the front. Hamish spent most of the time daydreaming and staring out of the window, too busy to make conversation. "Are you going to your friend's tonight?" Sherlock asked suddenly grabbing Hamish's attention.

"Yeah," Hamish nodded as he spoke. "Only for an hour or so, we've just got a project to do." Sherlock nodded to him.

"What time should I pick you up?"

"Maybe around half four?" Sherlock smiled and then nodded in agreement.

Eventually they arrived at Hamish's school. Hamish said goodbye to Sherlock and got out of the car slowly. Sherlock shouted to him as he walked closer to the school yard. "I'll see you later!" he waved, but Hamish had stopped looking by then and so Sherlock drove back to the flat.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time Sherlock had arrived home Irene had already left for work. He slowly wandered in and went to his desk to pick up his phone; he rang John. "Lestrade's got a case. We need to meet him at Scotland Yard in twenty minutes." he hung up almost straight after. He placed his phone into his jacket pocket and then made his way into the kitchen to make himself a cup of tea before leaving.

John was stood outside of Scotland Yard waiting for Sherlock's arrival. He looked down at his watch wondering what was taking Sherlock so long to get there, when suddenly he heard Lestrade. "Just you then, is it?" he smiled. John smiled back and then greeted him.

"Sherlock's on his way I think."

"Not like him to be late," Lestrade turned to try and spot Sherlock. "Do you know what's taking him so long?"

"Not a clue." John shook his head.

Eventually, Sherlock pulled up in the car park of Scotland Yard and walked over to the two men waiting patiently. "Where have you been?" John asked, looking at his watch.

"Sorry I'm late; there was something I had to do."

"What?"

"Well, Hamish forgot something so I had to take it to him." John and Lestrade smiled for a moment and then Lestrade clapped his hands together.

"Right, anyway. The case."

They all went up to Lestrade's office to discuss the robbery that had taken place the night before. "Lestrade," Sherlock interrupted. "Do you really need me for this case?"

"What?" Lestrade seemed confused.

"It's obvious; even you can work it out!" Lestrade looked blank for a moment. "You really don't need me to help you with this case. The answer is staring you right in the face." John was also beginning to look confused. Sherlock sighed and rolled his eyes.

"It was an insurance scam. The owner obviously did this. I've never seen such a blindingly obvious case." Suddenly, realisation hit Lestrade's face and he sat back.

"Well, uh... I'd better get in touch with them then." Sherlock smiled. "How did you know it was him? There were a number of people who could have done it."

"Yes, there were. Some of them were in on it, too."

"You're saying he gave them a share of the money?"

"Most of them were friends of his. He persuaded them to steal the things."

"But why would they be stupid enough to go along with it? Surely they couldn't know that they wouldn't get caught." John asked.

"He promised to frame somebody else for it; Mr Johnny Stewart who's known for stealing in that area."

"He obviously didn't do a good enough job." Lestrade interrupted.

"Exactly." Sherlock stood up.

"I'm sorry for wasting your time." Said Lestrade.

"It's fine; you would have got the wrong man if you hadn't." Sherlock smiled. John also stood up and smiled to Lestrade. Then, they both left.

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	3. Chapter 3

"How did you know all that?" Asked John as he and Sherlock left Scotland Yard.

"It was simple, really. It was all in the notes."

"But I saw exactly the same as you, yet I could not have come to the same conclusion."

"All this time together, John, and you still haven't learnt how to fully observe. Did you not see how much debt Mr James was in? He obviously needed the money. And the fact that Mr Stewart only has a record of stealing jewellery; never antiques. Why would he go and steal some antiques when he could easily go to the jewellery shop just two blocks from that antique shop?" John just nodded.

They both walked to Sherlock's car. "Do you want lunch?" John asked. Sherlock smiled.

"Didn't you bring your car?"

"No," John shook his head. "I decided to walk it." Sherlock just nodded and then John opened the opposite door to sit in the car.

Soon they arrived at a small café. They chose a small table and picked up a menu each. "Oh, you're going to eat?" John smirked. Sherlock smiled a little and then continued to look at the selection of food. "How's everything at home? Are Irene and Hamish well?" Sherlock looked up from his menu and nodded.

"Yes, Hamish is doing well at school, and Irene is very well. How about Mary and Olivia? How are they?"

"The same, really. Olivia loves school at the moment." They both smiled.

"Hamish is actually doing about space and planets right now." John laughed a little.

"Surely he gets help from you?" Sherlock smirked. "I'm sure he's going to do well."

"And Olivia." Sherlock smiled, picking his menu up once again.

They both left the café soon after eating just a small sandwich. "Are you alright, Sherlock?" John asked as he looked at his friend while they both walked to the car.

"Oh no, I'm just tired, that's all." He smiled softly.

"That's family life for you." John chuckled a little. However, he could see his friend was a bit more tired than he made out. "When do you take a break?" Sherlock paused for a minute while putting on his seatbelt. He looked to his friend.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you work and then you go home and take care of Hamish and then you work more. Do you ever stop?"

"Why would I need to stop? I'm fine; I like it."

"But do you ever take a break just to rest?"

"I'm taking a break now, aren't I?"

"We had lunch, but when you go home I guarantee you will have cases waiting for you."

"That's my job. And Irene takes care of Hamish a lot, too. I want to spend time with them, and I want to do my work." John sighed.

"I know, I know. But you can take a break once in a while." John smiled. Sherlock smiled back, but didn't really listen to John's advice and began to drive.

He stumbled in, John walked behind him, he threw his keys onto his desk, removed his coat and then staggered into the kitchen. He made himself and John a drink and then sat down at his desk. John was right; he had received more cases. He looked on the website at the whole number of people who had left the details of their cases and decided which one to take a look at first. "Maybe that one?" Said John, pointing at the screen.

"Boring." Sherlock shook his head.

"That one?"

"Predictable."

"This one?"

"Obvious." They scanned through the messages, looking for a worthy case. Then, suddenly, they found the case.

"That one?"

"Finally; an interesting one." Sherlock grinned. Without delay, he jumped up from his seat, grabbed his keys and ran out, with John following. They hopped into the car and drove off.

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	4. Chapter 4

They soon arrived at Mrs Walker's home. Sherlock rang the bell quickly and waited for a reply. They saw a face in the window, looking to see who could be at the door. Once she realised who it was, she instantly went to open the door. "Ah, Mr Holmes. I take it you're here about the case?" she seemed wary. She had only her head peeking round the door, and made sure nobody else was around.

"Yes, may we come in?" he smiled. She nodded and opened the door quickly to let them inside. As soon as they were in she slammed the door and locked it. Then, she directed them to the living room where she offered them a seat.

"Would you like something to drink?" they both shook their heads.

"I am sorry to have called you, but there's nothing else I can think of doing."

"Don't worry, I shall help you as much as I can. However, first I need a few more details about your case."

"Of course," she smiled. "What would you like to know?"

Mrs Walker explained everything to Sherlock and John. John took necessary notes as usual, and Sherlock listened intently to what she had to say. "Thank you, Mrs Walker. I'll try my best to find out what is happening and who is causing it all. I'll let you know when I have news." He smiled politely to her and shook her hand.

John and Sherlock both left and walked to the car. "So, do you have any idea what it all is?"

"I have some ideas, yes."

"Are you going to tell me them?" Sherlock smiled. John knew he wouldn't until he'd got all of the evidence to support everything. They both got into the car.

"Sherlock, do you want me to drive?" John looked to his friend who was almost falling asleep. Sherlock perked up when he heard John speak. He turned to him quickly.

"What? No, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? You look tired."

"John, I told you before I am fine. I'm a bit tired, but I am perfectly capable of driving." John just nodded and let Sherlock ignore him.

Soon, they reached the flat again. They ran in and straight away Sherlock got to the case. He began looking for information online. John asked if he could help in anyway, and so Sherlock asked him for his notes. Together, they both looked at all the information they had.

They stared at it all for hours, but still none of them really had a clue about what was going on. "I thought you said you had some ideas."

"I did," Sherlock sighed. "But they've all been proven wrong. Now we have nothing to go on. Absolutely nothing."

"Surely there has to be something in all of this." They both shook their heads. As they stared at the screen of the laptop, Sherlock noticed the time.

"Oh no," he shouted, jumping out of his seat.

"What is it, what's wrong?" John ran after him out of the flat.

"I was meant to pick Hamish up half an hour ago!" Before either of them said another word, Sherlock jumped into the car. He opened his window to ask John something quickly. "You stay and look over the notes. See if you spot anything we may have missed." John just nodded and went back into the flat as Sherlock quickly drove to pick up his son.

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	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock frantically knocked on the door of Hamish's friend's house. A woman answered as soon as she heard. "I'm coming." she shouted as she walked to the door. She opened it and smiled.

"Hi, sorry I'm so late." the woman smiled and shook her head.

"No, it's fine. Hamish has been a delight. Him and Jack have just been getting on with their project." Sherlock smiled.

"Well, I better take him home."

"Are you sure you don't want to come in? I can make you a drink if you want?"

"No, no," Sherlock shook his head as he heard Hamish running down the stairs. "We really best be going home." Hamish ran to Sherlock quickly. He had a huge smile on his face, so Sherlock knew he had been enjoying himself. Sherlock looked down to him and ruffled his hair.

"Ah, well I'll let you both go." she knelt down to Hamish. "You're welcome here any time." Hamish smiled and thanked her for letting him stay there. Then, he ran to the car. Sherlock shook the woman's hand and then followed Hamish to the car.

"So, what did you and Jack get up to?" Sherlock said as he drove home.

"Just the project stuff."

"What project were you doing?"

"It's for history; we have to make a model of either a specific time in history and whoever does the best wins a prize."

"Oh, sounds interesting. What are you and Jack making?"

"We're doing they Egyptians. We're going to make a pyramid and some mummies. It's going to be great!" Hamish beamed. Sherlock smiled at him through the mirror and then asked about his day.

"What did you get up to at school?"

"In science we learnt some more about planets. It was pretty boring." Sherlock grinned. "Then, we did maths which was fun but some of it was kind of difficult. We got loads of homework for it."

"Do you want help with it?" Hamish nodded.

"And then we had English which was cool; we got to write about our parents' jobs, and I said how you catch all the bad guys." Sherlock chuckled. "My teacher said it was good, and that I should write more stories."

"Do you like to write?" Hamish nodded. "Then you should." Sherlock smiled.

They eventually arrived home. Hamish ran inside quickly and Sherlock slowly followed. He watched his son bounce up the steps so quickly he was up them in a blink. Hamish ran inside to see John sat at Sherlock's desk. "Hello, Uncle." he smiled as he threw his stuff into his room and then wandered over to John's side to see what he was looking at. Sherlock soon followed through the door and saw Hamish and John talking about the notes. "What do you think happened?"

"I don't know." John shook his head. Hamish looked to Sherlock.

"Do you know, Dad?" Sherlock looked at his son so full of hope.

"Not yet." he shook his head.

"I'm sure you'll figure it out soon. You always do." Hamish smiled joyfully. Sherlock smiled back to him and hugged him.

"Do you want something to eat? A drink?" Hamish shook his head.

"I'm just going to watch TV for a bit in my room."

John and Sherlock tried to work on the case for a while, but they couldn't get anywhere. John decided it was time to give it a rest for a bit. "Sherlock, I'd best go now. Mary and Olivia are probably wondering where I am." John smiled and patted Sherlock on the back. Sherlock nodded and said goodbye. "I'm going, Hamish. I'll see you later."

"Goodbye, Uncle." Hamish shouted from his room.

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	6. Chapter 6

Soon Irene arrived home. She could hear Sherlock and Hamish in his room doing some homework so she put her things down and went in to say hello. "What are you two up to?" She brought her head round the door. Hamish jumped up and went to hug her. She smiled and kissed his forehead.

"I was just helping him with his maths. He understands it now, don't you?" Sherlock turned to Hamish who nodded. Irene smiled.

"You don't want him teaching you maths; he's terrible at it." Sherlock laughed and went over to her. He kissed her softly and then followed her into the kitchen. Hamish had gone to finish off the last bit of his homework now he finally understood it, and then he was going to finish playing a game on the Wii.

Sherlock and Irene went into the kitchen. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her waist, brought her closer and kissed her again softly. "How was your day?" he stopped kissing her, but still held her.

"Good, good. Everything at the hotel is going well. In fact, we're having a party in two days to celebrate the grand opening. It will be a good chance for us to have a night out together." she smiled. Sherlock smiled and kissed her cheek. Then, he let her go and she walked over to the kettle. "How was your day?" she shouted to Sherlock who had gone to sit down in the living room. He settled down in his armchair and relaxed for a bit.

"Alright."

"Get any good cases?"

"I got a robbery this morning which was dull and done in a few minutes. However, the second case I got is puzzling." Irene walked in with a coffee in her hand and sat on the arm of the chair. She sipped her drink slowly. "John and I can't figure it out yet." Irene stroked his hair.

"I'm sure you'll get it soon." she smiled. Sherlock smiled back and began to relax as Irene ran her hands through his hair.

"What shall we have for tea?" Irene asked as she watched Sherlock try to help Hamish finish the game on the Wii. She couldn't help but laugh every time he had to restart. "I bought some pizza if you want that, Hamish?" Hamish just nodded but didn't turn to her as he was trying to help his father get through the levels. "What about us, Sherlock? What should we have? We have fish if you want?"

"I'm not hungry, but you can have it." Sherlock said, like Hamish, not looking away from the game.

"You've got to eat something."

"I had lunch, I'm fine."

"That was just one meal. You need to have something else."

"I'm fine." Sherlock shook his head. Irene didn't bother to argue anymore; she knew he wouldn't listen.

As Irene was preparing the dinner, Sherlock grabbed her from behind. At first she gasped, but then began to giggle a little as Sherlock turned her around. "So, did you complete it? The game?"

"No," Sherlock shook his head. "I had to give up, Hamish said that it just wasn't what I was good at." they both laughed. Then, they both stopped and looked at each other for a moment. They both gazed into each other's eyes and smiled. Irene then stopped smiling.

"Why won't you eat?" she asked. Sherlock sighed.

"I'm fine, honestly. I need to work on this case." Irene's eyes dropped to the floor and she sighed. Sherlock placed his hand under her chin and lifted her head up slowly. "I'm fine, Irene." she looked at him. "I had a huge lunch; I'm full to the brim." he smiled. "I swear to you I won't have work tomorrow, and then I will eat anything you want me to." he smiled at her until she smiled back. Then, he let go of her.

"Fine, but you'd better be ready. I am going to prepare a huge buffet or something and you will eat every last bit of it." Sherlock grinned.

"Absolutely."

"And you'd also better make sure you don't have work to do after tomorrow, because we are going to the hotel's celebration party."

"Of course." Sherlock nodded and kissed her. Then, he left her and went to do his work.

Irene tucked Hamish in to bed and gave him a kiss goodnight. Sherlock had already said goodnight to him and continued with his work. However, he went in once more to read him a short story. He kissed him on his forehead and then switched the light off.

Sherlock sat staring at all the notes. Everything he had up on his laptop still didn't seem to connect with anything whatsoever. He was so puzzled. He rubbed his eyes slowly and kept his hands over them for a minute. Suddenly, he felt Irene's hands on his shoulders. She rubbed them and massaged them before kissing him gently. "Are you coming to bed?" Sherlock removed his hands from his face and sighed.

"Not just yet, I'll go soon though." Irene gave him a stern look. "I promise." she sighed and went to bed. She knew he wouldn't go to bed however much she argued.

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	7. Chapter 7

Irene woke up early that morning. She stretched her arms as she yawned and she slowly sat up. She turned to the side of her and noticed Sherlock wasn't there. She assumed that he may have just woken up early to get Hamish ready. She stumbled out of the bedroom and was about to go into the bathroom when she noticed something in the living room. Rubbing her eyes, she walked into the living room and found Sherlock fast asleep on his desk. She sighed and walked over to him. She rubbed his back gently and whispered his name. "Sherlock, wake up." she whispered. Soon he heard her and opened his eyes. He sat up slowly and gradually looked around.

"What... What time is it?" he spoke quietly and his words came out very slowly.

"It's almost 8." as soon as she said it Sherlock opened his eyes widely and jumped up out of his seat. She tried to sit him back down, but he shrugged her arms off of him.

"I need to take Hamish to school." he said as he stumbled over to get his coat.

"Sherlock, no. You're too tired. I'll take Hamish; you stay at home and rest for an hour or so." Sherlock shook his head.

"I'm fine. You've got to get ready for work." Irene grabbed Sherlock.

"Sherlock, you can't take him. You're in no fit condition to take him." Sherlock sighed. "Let me take him. You get some rest and then you'll be fine." she sat him down on the sofa and called Hamish. "Just get some rest, ok?" she smiled as he lay on the sofa.

Sherlock only managed to sleep for twenty minutes before his phone began to ring: it was John. "Sherlock?"

"J... John?"

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, just wondered if you'd got anywhere with the case?"

"The case..." Sherlock then remembered it and shot up. He ran to his desk and turned his laptop back on. "Uh, no, no I haven't."

"Oh, do you want me to come over and help maybe?"

"Um, yeah, ok." Sherlock got all his notes back in order after he put his phone down.

John soon arrived. He walked in to see a half dead Sherlock sat at the desk. He walked over and sat down. "Are you alright?" Sherlock looked up to him.

"John, I'm fine. In fact, I'm a lot better now; I've just figured it all out!" John's face lit up.

"What? How? What is it all?"

"I'll explain it all when we get to Mrs Walker's house." Sherlock jumped up and left the flat. John just followed him as quickly as he could.

They arrived and Mrs Walker let them both in quickly. Sherlock didn't hesitate to explain. "Mrs Walker, I understand you had a daughter?" Mrs Walker's face went pale.

"How did you know about that?"

"I managed to find out. Anyway, she is the one causing all of these strange happenings."

"What? How can you know that?"

"Well, I called Scotland Yard before I arrived and they found her. I told them to ask her about all of this and she confessed everything." Mrs Walker began to tear up.

"W... Why would she do this?"

"She wanted to meet you, but she was also angry at you. You put her in care, and she felt you didn't want her." tears began to stream down Mrs Walker's face. "I'm sorry, this must be a shock to you." Mrs Walker shook her head.

"There's no need to be sorry. You solved it, and for that I thank you. I'm just... I'm just upset that she hates me so much." she began to cry more.

"Well she's at Scotland Yard." John interrupted. "You can go and speak to her now, get things cleared up?"

"How? I can't just go now and speak to her."

"Now is a better time than any." Sherlock smiled sympathetically.

Sherlock and John arrived back at the flat. "Well, that was strange." John said as Sherlock began to make himself and John a drink. "How did you find out she had a daughter?" John peered round the kitchen door.

"It was written on her Facebook page." John just smiled a little. "I just asked Lestrade to look into it for me; he owes me a favour."

"Ah, right." John smiled as he went to sit down.

Sherlock brought the drinks and sat in his armchair. "Are you doing anything tomorrow night?" Sherlock asked as he sipped his tea.

"Uh, no. Why?"

"I wondered if you could take care of Hamish? Irene and I are going out; some celebration about her hotel grand opening."

"Oh, alright. I'll have to run it by Mary first, but it'll be fine." John smiled. There was a pause for a moment. Before either of them could say anything, there was a knock at the door. Client.

"Tell us everything." Sherlock said as he paced around the room with his hands in prayer position.

"Well... uh... someone stole a small jewel of mine-"

"What type of jewel? Was it worth anything? Did they take anything else?"

"It was just something small; not worth anything at all. That is all they took. I arrived home and it was gone."

"Where did you keep it?"

"In a small black box beside my bed."

"Did anybody know it was in there?"

"Some of my very close friends. I didn't mind that people knew where it was because it is worth nothing and nobody is interested in it; it's so small."

"Why do you have it?"

"I got it from someone. My parents never told me who; I've just had it all my life and it felt special to me." Sherlock paused for a moment, then soon continued to pace.

"Leave it with me," he stopped and stood in front of the client. "I'll get back to you as soon as I know anything." the client nervously smiled and left.

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	8. Chapter 8

Irene and Hamish returned home to find Sherlock at his desk once again. Irene sighed as she walked in, but Hamish just ran over to him and gave him a hug. "Are you feeling better?"

"I'm feeling a lot better now you're home." he smiled joyfully and hugged Hamish tightly. "Sorry I couldn't take you to school or bring you home."

"It's ok, mum was telling me some stories about how you didn't know the moon went around the sun." Sherlock looked up to Irene and raised an eyebrow. Irene grinned and went into the kitchen.

"That's ridiculous, of course I know that."

"That's what I said." Hamish smiled.

"Do you want a snack? I bought your favourite chocolate..." Sherlock grinned. He took Hamish to the kitchen and pulled out the chocolate from the cupboard. "First, you have to tell me what percentage three quarters is?" Hamish sighed and thought for a moment.

"75" he shouted with joy. Sherlock and Irene cheered and then Sherlock gave him the chocolate. Hamish then ran into his room to watch some TV while Sherlock and Irene spoke alone.

"What have you been doing today?" Irene asked as she chopped some tomato.

"Work."

"But you were supposed to be resting!"

"I know, but I'm fine."

"Sherlock, you are not fine! You are tired; you haven't slept in weeks. I'm surprised you manage to keep your eyes open everyday."

"I'm used to it."

"But you need rest. You're human! Humans rest."

"Don't worry, I will tonight."

"But you were working; you have a case, don't you?"

"Yes, but it can wait. If you want me to rest then I will." Irene smiled and Sherlock hugged her.

"I mean, I wasn't actually worried about you..." Irene joked and Sherlock held her tight.

"I know." he smiled.

"Anyway, I am preparing you for a huge feast tonight." Sherlock groaned. "You swore. You have to eat everything. _Everything_." Irene smiled as she continued to slice tomatoes.

"Fine." Sherlock sulked into the living room and then he went into Hamish's room to find him playing on his play station.

"Excuse me, what happened to your Wii game?"

"I completed it." Hamish paused the game quickly.

"What? When did you do this?"

"Last night, before bed."

"Well you could have told me." Sherlock pretended to be angry and grabbed Hamish.

"No! Put me down!" Hamish giggled. Sherlock shouted and began to spin around. Eventually they both fell to the floor laughing.

"Anyway, have you got any homework?" Hamish shook his head. "Well then. I guess you can play your game." Sherlock rubbed his head and then left his room.

"Dinner!" Irene shouted gleefully. Hamish and Sherlock headed to the kitchen and sat down at the table while Irene set out all of the food. Sherlock gulped as he saw the food he was going to have to eat.

Hamish had gone back to his room to finish his game while Sherlock was finishing the last bit of his meal. Irene sat watching him try to finish it. "You don't have to; you've eaten enough." Sherlock shook his head while eating.

"No, I made a promise and I will finish." Irene just laughed as he picked up some more food.

When he finally finished Irene cheered and smiled happily. Sherlock smiled slightly, and then rubbed his eyes. "I told you I would finish."

"Yes. Anyway, I'd better clean it all up now." Sherlock got up and moved her away from the sink.

"No, no, no. I will do that. You prepared me that amazing food, I shall clean."

"But you're tired! I can't let you."

"You don't have a choice." Irene kissed his cheek softly and then went to watch some TV. Sherlock began to clean all of the dishes.

Irene looked at the time and decided to go to bed. She'd tucked Hamish in and now it was time for her to go to sleep. She looked to Sherlock's desk and saw he wasn't there. Then she remembered how he was doing the dishes, but that was an hour or so ago. She walked into the kitchen and found Sherlock sat on a chair with his head down on the table asleep. She tried to wake him, but it was no use; he wouldn't wake. She managed to sort of wake him up, but when she asked him to go to bed he shrugged her away and fell asleep again. Irene sighed. She went into the living room and grabbed a small blanket and put it gently over Sherlock. She kissed his forehead and went to bed.

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	9. Chapter 9

"Are you sure you've got everything?" Irene asked John as she took Hamish to stay over. John smiled and nodded.

"We have everything; don't worry. He'll be totally fine. Go and have fun." Irene sighed and realised she had to go. Sherlock pulled her away and thanked John, then they got into the car and went to Irene's hotel.

"Will Hamish be ok?" Irene asked before they went in. Sherlock stopped her, placed his hands on her arms and looked her in the eyes.

"He'll be fine. John will take care of him, as will Mary. Now stop worrying; this is your night. Your night to celebrate. Don't panic." Irene nodded and took deep breaths.

"You're right. You're right." she repeated and then she wrapped her arm in Sherlock's and they went inside.

Irene and Sherlock were greeted by hundreds of people as they walked in. Irene was so pleased and greeted everyone with a smile. Sherlock greeted everybody too, and tried to speak with them. However, he began to feel tired. Irene knew Sherlock was tired because he wouldn't rest that day because of a case. But, he promised her he would stay awake because he wanted to celebrate this with her.

Soon, everybody got some food and sat down as the toasts began to start. Irene was the first to give her toast. She thanked everybody for coming and for their hard work and effort at the hotel. "I couldn't have done it without any of you. Thank you." she smiled and then sat back down. Then, a lot of people began to give toasts. Sherlock kept closing his eyes and drifting off as people were boring him. He tried to hold himself up with his hands, but he could hardly fight it. However, people soon stopped and the music began to play. It was so loud he woke up and couldn't sleep again.

Irene noticed everybody dancing and turned to Sherlock. "Can we dance?" she pleaded. She did a puppy dog face that Sherlock just couldn't refuse to, no matter how tired he was. So, he stood up, grabbed her hand and pulled her onto the dance floor.

"Congratulations." Sherlock said.

"Thank you." Irene smiled. Sherlock pushed a piece of Irene's hair back behind her ear as they continued to dance. "Have I ever told you that you dance very well?" Sherlock laughed.

"At our wedding."

"Ah yes." she smiled. "I asked you where you'd learnt to dance."

"And I told you that I would never tell."

"That was a beautiful evening." Irene smiled. Sherlock also smiled as he looked back at it. "Who would have thought it?" Sherlock looked at her. "Sherlock Holmes married."

"People weren't just surprised about me getting married, Dominatrix."

"Well, I guess we were made for each other."

"I guess so." Sherlock kissed her softly. They stopped dancing for a moment and just kissed.

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	10. Chapter 10

It was time to leave. Irene had had a few drinks, so she couldn't drive. Sherlock got into the driver's seat and put his seatbelt on. "Are you sure you don't want me to drive?"

"You've been drinking."

"But you're hardly in any fit state to drive."

"We'll be fine; we're a lot safer than if you were driving."

"I guess so, but will you be ok? You're so tired."

"I'll be fine." Sherlock kissed her. However, he didn't believe it himself. He felt he would collapse at any moment, but he had to stay awake.

As they drove, Irene and Sherlock both grew tired. It was incredibly dark, hard to see anything, and it was all quiet. Irene and Sherlock hardly spoke as they were too tired. Irene just stared out of the window. Sherlock squinted to see if there were any cars in front of him. His eyelids grew heavier and heavier by the second, and he could hardly stay awake.

Soon, Sherlock was too tired. He continued to blink until he could no longer open his eyes. Irene didn't notice until there was a red light. Sherlock didn't appear to be stopping. His head fell forward as he fell deeper and deeper into sleep. As they got closer, Irene began to notice that Sherlock was asleep. She shrugged him and tried to wake him up, but nothing worked. Then, they got too close and Irene tried to do something. She grabbed the wheel and tried to push the brake. Nothing worked. They drove straight forward. Then, the car began to spin as Irene tried to take control. However, it was too late. They'd lost control. Suddenly, a car came driving so fast towards them out of nowhere. It could hardly be seen. Irene screamed Sherlock's name so high he suddenly opened his eyes. He looked up and then the car collided with theirs. It hit with such force, Sherlock's car went flying back.

Somebody went to check on the drivers of both cars. The driver in the other car was injured, but somebody managed to help get him out. Then, they went to Sherlock's car. Sherlock's head was on the safety pillow. Little blood ran from it and he was unconscious. Then, they went to Irene's side of the car. She'd got stuck in the car. Her head hung low with blood pouring down the right side of her face from her head. Some of the glass from the car had smashed and they suspected that some pieces may be in her skin.

The paramedics and fire service managed to get Irene and Sherlock out of the car. They had been able to get Sherlock to wake up, but Irene couldn't. As Sherlock saw her, he tried to get to her, but he was to weak, so he almost fell. The paramedic lifted him up and tried to calm him down, but he continued to cry for her to wake up. Eventually, they took them both to the hospital.

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	11. Chapter 11

"Sherlock." John placed his hand on Sherlock's shoulder as his friend hung his head down and shook it. "Sherlock, you need to rest." Sherlock chose to ignore him and shook his head more and more. "It's not healthy. You're making yourself sick."

"I need to stay with her," Sherlock placed his hands together and put them in front of his lowered head. "She needs me."

"You won't be any use to her if you're ill. Get some rest." John knelt down to try and reason with his friend.

"What if she wakes up? I need to be here." John sighed. He knew he couldn't win this.

"Well, do you want a drink?" Sherlock shook his head once more.

"Sherlock! You need to drink! You need to take care of yourself, too." Sherlock's head shot up.

"Why?!" he looked John right in the eye. "Why should I? This is all my fault." he turned to Irene. "If it weren't for me, she wouldn't be here right now. She'd be at home. With me and Hamish. Everything would be perfect." Sherlock didn't blink as he daydreamed about how different things would have been if he hadn't crashed the car; if he had just got a taxi or something instead of driving. If he hadn't ignored his wife.

"You can't keep blaming yourself. You need to deal with this, Sherlock. Not just for your sake, but for Irene's. And for your son's." Sherlock began to cry silently for a moment. John patted him on the shoulder and brought himself up. He sighed and then left the room. "I'll bring you a coffee." he said, leaving.

"There's no change in either of them." John said to Lestrade as they went to buy refreshments. They both grabbed their coffees and sat down at a table for a minute. "Irene's not getting any better-"

"But she's not getting any worse?" John shook his head.

"And Sherlock won't leave her side." They both sighed and sipped their drinks.

"What can we do?"

"We need to help Sherlock. We need to make him realise that he can't do anything to help her. He has a son that needs taking care of. We need to try and prepare him for the worst." Lestrade looked at John for a moment blankly.

"You don't think...?"

"I don't know, I can't say. However, it's best that he knows that it's incredibly likely." Lestrade sighed.

John went back into Irene's room and handed Sherlock the drink. "Thank you, John." Sherlock nodded to him and grabbed the drink. He only took small sips, but to John this was a big step.

There was a silence in the room for a long time. Nobody knowing what to say. Sherlock held Irene's hand tight trying to get her to wake up. He held it to his face as tears streamed down it and he kissed it repeatedly. John saw the man as he once knew as the man with a heart made out of stone, to a man who was hopelessly in love with this one woman. "Sherlock, have you spoken to Hamish?" Sherlock didn't respond straight away.

"I, uh... I called him this morning." Sherlock sniffled.

"Oh, good." John paused for a moment. "When do you think he'll be coming to see her?" John indicated to Irene.

"I don't know... I really don't have a clue." John walked closer to his friend and sat beside him.

"Sherlock, you have to let him come and see her soon. It may be his only chance." Sherlock turned to him quickly.

"What?"

"I'm just saying, it may be his only chance to say goodbye."

"What are you talking about? She's going to wake up. She will wake up." Sherlock kept repeating this, mainly to himself.

"Sherlock, you still need to prepare yourself for a different outcome-"

"There won't be a different outcome!" Sherlock shouted. "There can't be..." Sherlock's voice grew quieter. "There can't..." his voice became a whisper as he looked back to his wife. John sighed and eventually left the room.

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	12. Chapter 12

"Please... Please, wake up." Sherlock begged the body in the bed beside him. He looked at her face, so beautiful still. It was a shame it had been badly beaten during the accident, but he found not fault; she was always beautiful to him. "Irene... Say something..." he closed his eyes tightly and held her hand. "Just say something, please. Wake up.". Sherlock kissed her hand several times until soon a doctor came in. "Is there any news?" Sherlock turned to him quickly. The doctor shook his head in despair and Sherlock just turned his head slowly back to Irene. He knew what was coming next.

"Mr Holmes... I'm sorry, but there's nothing further we can do for-"

"Don't say it." Sherlock shook his head. "Please don't say it."

"I'm incredibly sorry, but we have no other options." Sherlock began to cry more. He jumped out of his seat and approached the doctor.

"Please. There has to be something you can do! She needs to wake up. You can't just let her die. Please."

"I understand this is very difficult to hear-"

"You don't understand! How would you understand? My wife is in a coma! You can't possibly understand!"

"Please, Mr Holmes, calm down. There is simply nothing else we can do." the doctor hesitated for a moment. "She hasn't improved at all. There's nothing left to be done. We're going to give her today so you can say your goodbyes. Mr Holmes, please, you must understand we can do nothing more. I'm so sorry." Sherlock pleaded to the doctor a little, but collapsed to the floor in tears. A nurse went to help take care of him and eventually he got an hour's sleep. However, as soon as he woke he went straight back to Irene's side.

Sherlock pulled out his phone from his pocket and called John. "I'm sorry, Sherlock. I truly am." John said after Sherlock told him everything. "What do you need me to do? Do you need me to come?"

"No, no." Sherlock sniffed and coughed a little. "I need you to bring Hamish in. I called my mother to let her... to let her know you're coming. I need you to bring him so he can speak to her." John nodded and went to fetch Hamish straight away. Sherlock didn't know how Hamish would cope, but he had to give him the chance to say goodbye.

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	13. Chapter 13

Hamish and John had arrived. As soon as they got to Irene's room, Hamish ran up to Sherlock and hugged him. He wasn't excited; just happy to see his dad as it had been a week and he had missed him greatly. Sherlock held him tight and John left the room. "How's mum?" Hamish asked as he slowly turned to her. He hadn't seen her at all since she left to go on her night out. Sherlock gulped and swallowed back tears as he placed his hands on Hamish's arms. He looked him right in the eyes and spoke to him.

"Hamish... Son... your mother isn't very well. And, uh... She's not going to be able to, um... to make it through the night." Hamish stood expressionless waiting for Sherlock to finish. "I called you now because... because now is your only chance to say goodbye to her." Hamish stood for a minute looking at his dad. Then, he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it quickly. "I know that this is hard for you... But you need to tell her how much you love her now."

"But..." Hamish closed his eyes for a long time before speaking again. "Why... why won't she wake up?"

"The doctors have tried to wake her. But it's no use; she can't. She's too ill."

"But she can't go. No... No..."

"Listen to me, Hamish. I know this is hard," Sherlock began to tear up once again. "But if there was anything anybody could do, I would be making sure they do it! But they have all tried."

"What if she doesn't know it's me? What if she can't hear me?"

"She can still hear you. And of course she'll know; you're her son. She loves you more than anything in this whole world." Sherlock leant to his ear. "Even me." he smiled. Hamish tried to smile but he began to cry. Sherlock pulled him close to him and hugged him tight like he'd never let go. "I know this is hard. It's hard for me too. But... but we have to say goodbye to her." Sherlock released him and nodded to Hamish. "Okay?" Hamish looked at him.

"Okay." Hamish nodded as he wiped tears from his eyes.

"M...Mum? I really, really miss you." Hamish began. Sherlock stood by his side the whole time and placed his hands onto his son's shoulder to reassure him he wasn't going to leave. "I don't know what I'm going to do without you... You were the best mum ever. I really love you. And I really don't want you to go. Please don't leave." Hamish began to tear up, as did Sherlock and he held his son tighter. "I love you. Loads." Hamish turned and burst into tears as Sherlock held him to his stomach. He looked down at his wife and cried with Hamish at it all. "I don't want her to go..." Hamish mumbled.

"Me neither..."

Soon, John returned and found Hamish sat on Sherlock's knee and they were both looking to Irene. Neither of them spoke, but they were close to each other. He could see they'd both been crying buckets and didn't know whether he should go in, but by the time he thought about it Sherlock had noticed him. "John... John, could you take Hamish to get some food and a drink?" Hamish looked to his dad.

"But what if she wakes up? What if something happens?"

"I'll call you straight away. You need to eat."

"Promise."

"I swear to you." Sherlock kissed his son's forehead and Hamish slowly climbed off Sherlock's lap and staggered over to John who held his hand. Hamish looked back to his dad who stared at Irene with such sadness in his eyes.

When he knew Hamish and John were definitely away, he sat closer to Irene and whispered to her. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do this. If I'd just listened, If I'd just ordered a taxi or something instead of ignoring you. You would still be here. I just wish... I just wish it was me in your place." he stared at his wife for a moment and all of the memories came flooding back. They made him cry like he'd never cried before. Sherlock smiled sorrowfully and picked up Irene's hand. "Remember when we all went to Blackpool and I won you that little mini snow globe thing? You still have that by the side of your bed. I remember Hamish didn't win anything and you made me play every game until I won something." Sherlock chuckled a little. "And trying to get you onto the rides. You were petrified. You'd never clinged onto anything so hard in your life." Sherlock began to reminisce of all their memories until he just stared at her. "Please... You have to wake up. This can't be it. It can't end like this. Say something. I really don't want to let you go. I don't want to give up on you. I want you to wake up. I want... I want everything to go back to the way it used to be... We could go anywhere. I would always be by your side; I would always follow. I can't believe it; you're the one that I love.. I have only ever loved... And I'm saying goodbye. Please... just... just say something." Sherlock looked at her. Hoping maybe she would just miraculously recover and she'd speak to him. It'd be like in the movies when you think someone's dead but then they make a joke and everybody's so happy. However, it wasn't like that. Irene didn't suddenly say something funny to surprise Sherlock. She didn't suddenly tighten the grip of her hand in Sherlock's. She stayed completely still. Sherlock hung his head in despair and sorrow as he cried.

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	14. Chapter 14

Morning had come. Sherlock had been up all night with Irene, with a little bit of hope she would recover. Hamish had said goodbye one last time in the morning before John took him back to his Grandmother's. John came back to support Sherlock as it was time.

Two doctors who had been helping her entered. They nodded to Sherlock who hardly acknowledged them. Sherlock turned to Irene and spoke to her one last time. He leaned forward and whispered in her ear softly. "I learnt from my mother. To dance. She was incredible. I always loved it. She taught me every Saturday; nobody else knew. Not even Mycroft." Then, he finally kissed her on the cheek and moved away. The doctors both looked at him with despair, but he didn't want to pay attention. He just closed his eyes as they did what they had to do.

John came in and saw Sherlock stood next to Irene's lifeless body. She was so cold. Sherlock had never wanted to see her like this. He hang his head down and just thought to himself. "Sherlock," John choked. "Sherlock, are you alright?" Sherlock didn't reply, but John didn't need an answer. He patted Sherlock on the shoulder and left him alone for a few minutes.

Sherlock stood crying over Irene's freezing body. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I gave up on you." He thought about the things he could have said to her. He should have said to her. He placed his hands in prayer position and put them on his face as he began to cry louder and louder. John could hear him and quickly went in to find him in a horrific state on the floor. John picked him up and Sherlock did nothing to protest because he needed John right then. John lifted him up and took him out. He took him outside to sit down and he tried to comfort him as best he could. He didn't speak, just let Sherlock cry because he needed to let it out.

Eventually, Sherlock had stopped crying but he didn't speak. His face looked dead and he hardly bothered to move his body one bit. John helped him into his car and drove him home. He knew that it wasn't the right time to try and talk to Sherlock as he wasn't over any of it.

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	15. Chapter 15

Sherlock entered the living room. He stared at every single thing there was. His desk. The two armchairs. The TV with the Wii. The sofa. Everything was so dark; the room was so cold. He could feel the air itching at the back of his neck. He could feel the emptiness. The surroundings he'd once loved had been taken over by this darker power.

John came in behind him and patted his back. "Are you sure you want to stay here?" Sherlock nodded slowly. He had to be at home. He knew he'd let her go if he went somewhere else. He had to stay where she'd been, to keep her memory alive. He couldn't just let her drift away from him. "Do you want me to stay for tonight? Mary's fine with it." Sherlock didn't respond for a moment as he stared at his desk. The place he'd spent most of his time. The reason he'd needed sleep. The reason Irene suffered. "Sherlock?" Sherlock blinked and turned to him. "Do you want me to stay?" He did. He needed him. He nodded his head. He couldn't speak. John smiled sympathetically and pointed to the sofa. "That'll do for me." he smiled. His old room was now Hamish's room.

John made Sherlock a cup of tea and brought it to him. They both sat on the two armchairs and John sipped his drink. Sherlock didn't touch it. John didn't know what to do; his friend was frozen. He wouldn't talk, he hardly moved. What could John do? "I'll call your mum, tell her your home." John said, breaking the silence as he grabbed his phone. He explained to Sherlock's mother that Sherlock was home, but he didn't think it would be suitable for them to bring Hamish round just yet. She understood completely.

Sherlock sat in the armchair most of the day; just staring into the abyss that was his flat. His flat. No longer Irene's too. Not any more. John tried to help him; he tried to speak to him, but nothing worked. Sherlock just couldn't stop staring into nothingness.

Some people had called to see how he was doing, like Molly, Lestrade, even Mycroft. They even offered to come over and help, but John knew that there was no point as Sherlock wouldn't accept it. And, Sherlock wasn't in the right state for visitors just yet. So, they sent their regards and left it at that for the day. John tried to tell Sherlock, but Sherlock ignored him. Just like he ignored everything else John said to him throughout that day.

Soon, evening had arrived. John didn't even bother to try and make Sherlock eat; he knew he wouldn't touch it. So, he began to make his bed. "Are you sure you're alright sleeping here? Won't you be better off somewhere else? Just for now?" John asked. Sherlock just shook his head and stood up. He walked slowly to his bedroom and got into bed.

He wrapped himself up in the covers and stared at Irene's side of the bed. How empty everything was without her there. He missed her so badly. He missed watching her sleep when he woke early. He missed making her breakfast in bed. But, most of all, he just missed her presence. He missed her. Then, his eyes flicked up and he noticed the small snow globe on the chest of drawers by her side of the bed. He stared at it. The snow didn't fall. Nothing moved. Everything had stopped because there was nobody to shake it. A tear rolled down Sherlock's face as he lay just staring at it. He did so all night.

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	16. Chapter 16

John went into Sherlock's room in the morning. Sherlock was still lying there; staring at the snow globe. He hadn't slept a wink all night. John had kind of figured this out, but he couldn't blame him, and he also couldn't argue right then. "Sherlock, come on. You have to get up. You need to do something." Sherlock ignored him. "Please, Sherlock. You can't lie here all day. It won't help." Sherlock still didn't bother to answer nor budge. So, John sighed and then gave in. "Right, well at least let me get you a drink. Tea?" Sherlock shook his head slightly and so John left.

John entered the room once again later, Sherlock was in exactly the same position as how John had left him. "Are you going to get out of bed?" John said, hopeful. He thought maybe Sherlock had decided it was best by now. But Sherlock just shook his head, turned back to face Irene's side of it, and stared. John patted his shoulder and left.

John sat at the table in the kitchen with his hands under his chin holding his head up. He hadn't slept that night either. He was too worried about Sherlock. He didn't know what he might do; he was in such a state. He closed his eyes and thought to himself. He wondered how he was going to help Sherlock. How he could get him to realise that Irene wouldn't have wanted this: Sherlock silently lying in bed, never doing anything. Then, he decided to call Mycroft. Mycroft understood Sherlock a lot more than he made out. "Mycroft, please, he needs you."

"John, I don't know what I can do. I have no experience in these things; you know that. Relationships aren't really my area. I will come over, nonetheless. However, I can't promise that I can help him. Only he knows his heart; only he can control it. Right now, he's not doing a very good job." John thanked him and awaited his arrival to the flat.

He was a while, but eventually Mycroft turned up. He entered and John told him about how Sherlock just wouldn't move. Mycroft just nodded his head and then John took him to Sherlock. He then left him and his brother to have some privacy, hoping he may be able to help even just a tiny bit. "Sherlock?" Sherlock completely ignored his existence. "Listen to me, Sherlock." Mycroft began. "I can only imagine what you're through right now, and I am truly sorry. However, you can't stay in bed all day. You've got to let yourself live. None of this was your fault. It was a terrible accident. But it happened. And you need to realise that she has gone, and that there's nothing you can do. Please, Sherlock. You'll make yourself ill." Mycroft sighed as his brother didn't so much as blink. "I know you think I don't care about you. That I don't worry. But I do. And I want you to be happy. But I can tell you now; that won't happen if you don't let her go. Listen to me, please." Sherlock blinked and a tear rolled down his face slowly. However, he didn't say a word. Mycroft sighed and left the room; he was worried about what Sherlock might do.

John ran to Mycroft when he shut the door to Sherlock's bedroom. "So, what happened?" Mycroft sighed and lowered his head. "He, uh..." Mycroft brought his head back up to look at John. "He didn't speak, I'm sorry." John sighed. "I tried. I don't know if he heard me. I don't know if he took my advice, but you must keep your eye on him. God knows what he might do." John nodded sorrowfully and then thanked Mycroft. He saw him to the door and went back to the kitchen table. He placed his hands on his cheeks and sighed heavily. What was he to do? Then, he realised he'd better check Olivia and Mary to see if they were ok.

"How is he?" she asked, eagerly hoping to hear some good news.

"He's not good." John sighed. "He won't leave his bed. He just keeps staring into the distance. I don't know what to do, I don't know how to help him, I..." John rubbed his hand through his hair as he began to panic slightly.

"Calm down, John. I know you're doing all you can for him."

"But it's not enough... I don't know what else I can do... There's nothing else! I called Mycroft and he can't help him... I spoke to him and he just... he just lies there. I can't help him."

"John, just don't panic. He's going through something horrific right now. He wants space? Let him have space. He wants to stay in bed all day? He can stay in bed all day. He needs to get through this, but you can't rush it or it will never happen."

"But what can I do in the meantime?"

"Just be there."

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	17. Chapter 17

John entered Sherlock's room the next morning to see the same sight as he had the day before. "Sherlock?" John knew he wouldn't get a response. "Sherlock... I know this is hard for you. I know it's horrible. And, if you want to stay in bed all day, that's fine by me. Whatever you want. Whatever you need." John sat on the edge of the bed. "But you should call Hamish." John was incredibly surprised to see Sherlock's eyes turn to him. "Just to check how he's doing. He just lost his mother." Sherlock blinked gradually and looked straight to John.

"Al... Alright." Sherlock choked. John smiled softly as Sherlock had finally spoken, and he'd agreed to do something for him. "W... When?"

"Today, but when you're ready. We won't rush into it. We've got all day." John spoke softly, almost patronisingly, but Sherlock didn't mind. He needed John. He needed him to be like this. He needed to take the world in small steps before he could get over this.

"John?" Sherlock spoke quietly, but John could hear. He ran in quickly to Sherlock's bedroom. "Could... could I have a tea, please?" John smiled and hurriedly went to get Sherlock his request. Sherlock felt awful, still. Everywhere he looked, there was something to remind him of Irene. And when he thought of her, he thought about the crash. He didn't want to think about that. He wanted to remember the Irene before it all. The one at the party before all of this. The beautiful, sexy Dominatrix. But every time he saw her face, he was reminded of what he did. Of how he hurt her. And it broke him.

John brought his tea for him just moments later. He had such a smile on his face now Sherlock had finally spoken. Sherlock sipped his tea slowly, and then John placed it down on the bedside table. Neither of them spoke for a moment or two, and then John decided to break the silence. "I'm here for you, Sherlock. Whatever it is, you can tell me." Sherlock sighed. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it. He shook his head. John sighed, but patted him because he'd still improved since the day before. He was grateful for that.

It was nearing the evening and Sherlock had still stayed in bed that day. John had been waiting for him to call to speak to Hamish, but he never did. John went into his room and asked him whether he wanted to. Sherlock shook his head. "I... I can't. I just... I can't." Sherlock cried. He was disappointed that he couldn't even call his own son to see how he was. He imagined how much hell he must be going through, yet he still couldn't pick up the phone because he felt as though it was all his fault and that, if Hamish knew, he would despise him forever. Sherlock was just so ashamed that he had to leave it. John was disappointed as he truly thought Sherlock would call Hamish. He knew it was soon, but this was Sherlock Holmes. He'd never known him to be like this.

"I'll call and see." John said, closing the door. Sherlock just turned away in despair and anger with himself.

"How's Sherlock?" Sherlock's mother asked quickly.

"He's uh... he's not good."

"What's he doing? Has he eaten? Has he slept?"

"He's in bed, at the moment, but he hasn't actually slept. He's just lying there. Like he has been since he got back from the hospital. He hasn't eaten yet; I managed to make him drink something this morning though." Sherlock's mother sighed, and John thought he could hear her cry a little over the phone.

"How could this happen?" She sighed. "I never thought Sherlock would love a woman like he did Irene. He truly loved her." She sniffed. John just listened and then she soon asked why he'd called.

"I just wanted to see how Hamish was? Well, I say I, Sherlock does. He just... he can't talk right now."

"Oh, well, he's alright. We've tried to keep him occupied, but I think he's missing his father. He hasn't been sleeping very well, crying because of it all. He could really do with going home; being with his dad. He needs him, and Sherlock needs Hamish." John nodded and promised he would do the best he could to try and help Sherlock soon. However, he knew it was a lot easier said than done.

"Sherlock?" John peered his head around Sherlock's door and then wandered in. "Sherlock, Hamish needs you." John decided he had to tell him; he had to try and get Sherlock to see that he needed to let Irene go so he could help his son do the same. "He needs you because he has lost his mother. You're the only parent he has left, and he's not with you. He isn't sleeping. Your parents try to keep him occupied, but it's still nothing compared to being at home with his dad. Please, Sherlock. Let me help you." Sherlock didn't reply. He'd listened very carefully to everything that had been said, but he couldn't reply. What was he supposed to say? He knew he'd been a terrible dad. He knew it all. But he just couldn't face Hamish right then. He felt too guilty. And he wouldn't be any better a dad if Hamish was there. At least, at his mother's, he would be looked after. At the flat Sherlock would also be mourning and crying and it wouldn't be a happy environment. He didn't want that. He wanted to stop this. He wanted to help himself. But he couldn't. He felt he didn't deserve it; if Irene can't be there and be happy, why should he? He had to punish himself, he thought. He had to live in this darkness that surrounded him. John knew he wouldn't reply, so he left quickly. John felt bad for seeming angry, but he felt sorry for Hamish who must been finding it quite hard.

Sherlock cried a little because he knew John was angry with him. He closed his eyes tight and he tried to remember Irene before the crash. He wanted to calm himself down and get rid of the horrible memory. He tried harder and harder to find something that would help. But it was no use. He just heard her over and over screaming his name and the terror on her face when he woke and the car hit. Her scream went over and over in his head until he opened his eyes wide and screamed. John heard and quickly ran into Sherlock's room. Sherlock just screamed and covered his ears to try and stop it all, but it was no use. The whole thing was on replay. When the doctors took her in and he waited with her. When he held her hand as the doctor told him she was in a coma. When they told him they could no longer keep her alive. Then when he saw her cold body on the bed. The scream on repeat throughout the whole thing.

"Sherlock? Sherlock, everything's okay. It's all okay. Just stay calm." Sherlock opened his eyes to see John beside him. John's hands were on Sherlock's, and he was sat repeating the same thing "it's all okay.". Sherlock cried so much. Tears poured down his face. John comforted him as much as he could.

"I... I want... her here."

"I know."

"It's all my fault. She told me – she said not to drive..."

"It's not your fault. It was a terrible accident."

"She screamed... I woke up and she looked so scared... She... she was so scared." Sherlock cried. John had to sit him up and hug him.

"Just calm... down. Relax." John could see then that he was wrong. Hamish wouldn't be better of there; not yet. Sherlock needed help.

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	18. Chapter 18

"Do you want a drink?" John asked hesitantly as he entered Sherlock's room the next morning. Sherlock slowly turned his head to look at John. He shook it. John sighed, and he went to sit beside his friend. "You had one yesterday; why not today?" Sherlock stayed silent. Just like he had the first day back. John knew he had to get reinforcements. "I called Mycroft," John smiled sympathetically to his friend. "He said he's got someone to come and talk to you."

"A th... therapist?" Sherlock finally spoke before John could finish what he was going to say. John smiled and nodded. Then, Sherlock just nodded and turned his gaze to the window. John was quite surprised; the Sherlock he knew would have objected. He would have put up a fight and refused to see someone about things like this. Then he thought, the Sherlock he knew wouldn't be in this situation.

"I think they're coming later on. So have a drink or something to eat beforehand. You need energy." Sherlock still refused. John sighed and left the room.

"Is he drinking? Eating?" Lestrade called to check up on Sherlock.

"Nope. He's completely frozen. I don't know how we're going to get him out of this."

"You will, I'm sure."

"I don't know... Sherlock's incredibly stubborn. If he wants to stay like this forever, then he will. This is not going to be easy."

"You're his best friend, if anyone can help him, you can. I'll pop round later if you want?" John considered it for a moment. Was it right for guests to come at this time? Would it help Sherlock? Maybe not, but maybe he could do with seeing another friendly face rather than just John's. John could certainly do with seeing another human being.

"Alright." John hung up the phone and as soon as he had he'd already started to regret his decision; through his head ran every scenario of how Sherlock would react. That is, if he reacted at all.

"Sherlock?" John peered round Sherlock's door and walked over slowly. Sherlock hadn't really moved. "Sherlock, Lestrade's coming up in a few minutes." Sherlock didn't even twitch. "I wondered if you wanted to see him maybe?" Sherlock shook his head. John sighed and left the room, patting his friend as he got up.

Soon, Lestrade had arrived. John had told him Sherlock wasn't in the mood for visitors, so they stayed in the living room. John made them both a cup of tea and they sat down in the armchairs. "So..." Lestrade strummed the side of his cup. "Sherlock Holmes is in bed. I didn't think he ever actually slept." They both smiled sadly.

"I don't know what to do any more." John rubbed his face with his hands as he was tired and stressed. "Irene's funeral is tomorrow. He won't move. He keeps breaking down. What can I do?"

"John, you're doing your best. Honestly, it's all you can at the moment; wait." Lestrade sighed. "Is he seeing anybody? A professional?"

"Yeah," John nodded. "They should actually be here any minute. He didn't even protest to seeing him."

"Blimey," Lestrade opened his eyes wide. "It's really bad.". Suddenly, a knock at the door interrupted them both. John went to open it and Dr Burke was stood smiling politely. He shook John's hand when he entered and looked around the room.

"Where is Mr Holmes?" The man said, he had a deep but posh accent and he seemed very friendly.

"He's uh, he's this way." John quickly took the man to Sherlock's bedroom and took him in, knocking as they entered. "Sherlock? This is Dr Burke," Sherlock slowly turned his head, but only halfway. "There's a seat," John whispered to the Dr, pointing to the seat beside Sherlock's bed. "I'll leave you both alone." John smiled, as did Dr Burke.

"He seems nice." Lestrade smiled to John as he left the room and entered the living room again.

"Yeah," John smiled. "But is he any good?"

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	19. Chapter 19

"Hello, Sherlock." Dr Burke smiled as he sat down. Sherlock didn't bother to turn to him, or even acknowledge his existence for that matter. "I'm here to help you, Sherlock. Now, I can really only do that if you help me. I can go so far, but without your cooperation, this is just a waste of both our time." Sherlock still didn't look. "I know it's hard for you, but I doubt you want to stay this way for the rest of your life. And I don't think your wife would want you to live like this either." Sherlock turned his head. He looked at the man for a moment. "I want to help you, Mr Holmes. Please, sit up and we can just talk." Sherlock blinked. He didn't know whether to obey. He didn't want life to continue this way, but he still believed he deserved it. So, he stayed where he was. "Please?"

"B... but it was all my fault."

"What was?"

"Irene's... her... her..."

"Her death?" Sherlock nodded. "It wasn't anybody's fault, Sherlock. Simply a tragedy, an accident. Nobody was to blame."

"But if I hadn't-"

"If you hadn't done certain things, things would be different, yes? No. These things will happen, whether you try and change the past or not, it will still have the same outcome. If you keep going back and back and back to see what the cause was, you could be doing it your whole life. And what's the point? You can't go back and change what's happened. Nobody can. It's just how things happen." Sherlock gulped. "Now, please, sit up, and I can try to help you properly." Sherlock sighed, and began to push himself up onto his pillows. "That's better. What do you want to talk about?"

"I... I don't know."

"Well, how about telling me how you feel? What's going on inside that head of yours?"

"Well, uh... I guess I'm just... I'm devastated and angry. And the same thing keeps running over in my head; the whole thing on replay all the time and I just... I don't want to... I can't..." Sherlock began to breakdown. Dr Burke tried to relax him and calm him.

"Why don't you think about the happy times you had with her?"

"I don't... I can't. I have tried over and over and it just comes back to that. Her scream as we hit the other car..."

"You're letting it take over. You're letting the events go over and over; you won't give the happy memories a chance because you keep blaming yourself and you think you deserve this. You don't."

"I do. I do. It was my fault. Everything." Dr Burke sighed.

"It honestly wasn't."

After an hour or so, Dr Burke left Sherlock's room and shut the door quietly. "How is he?" John quickly jumped up.

"Well, he's... he's not very well. He's fixated on the idea that it's all his fault."

"Do you... do you think you can help him?" John spoke quickly.

"Well," Dr Burke sighed. "Hopefully I can. It'll be a lot of hard work, but I'm sure I can help him overcome this."

"Thank you. Thank you so much." John smiled gratefully and shook the man's hand. Dr Burke smiled back and then John walked him out.

"Well, that's good." Lestrade smiled, standing up from his seat.

"Yeah, yeah." John nodded. "I just hope he'll be able to go to the funeral tomorrow, though." John sighed.

"Well, I'll be there." Lestrade patted John on the shoulder. "Anyway, I must go. Got a case, so..." Lestrade was sorry for leaving like this, but John understood.

"Thanks so much for coming." John smiled.

Later on, John went into Sherlock's room. "Are you alright, Sherlock?"

"I, uh... yeah..." Sherlock's words ran off.

"Do you want something to eat? To drink?"

"Could I just have a... a sandwhich?" John smiled and nodded, and then he hurridely went to make Sherlock's sandwhich.

"So... Sherlock..." Sherlock popped his head up from the sandwhich he was taking minature bites from. "Tomorrow... tomorrow is a big day..." John was wary on how to approach Sherlock about this, but he had to know whether Sherlock would go.

"I know." Sherlock had heard John speaking to Lestrade about it all. He was worried John might ask him.

"Oh," John nodded his head. "Right, so uh, will you be coming?" John said hopefully, but tried not to put any pressure on Sherlock.

"Of course."

"What?" John seemed surprised by Sherlock's definite response.

"I said of course. I will be attending my wife's funeral."

"Oh, good, good." John smiled. "You won't have to speak or anything-"

"Yes, I do."

"But will you be alright?"

"John... I owe it to her. I did this to her, and I owe her my sincerest apologies for that. She deserves a speech."

"Alright. But if you can't do it, just let me know." Sherlock nodded slowly. John didn't let on, but he was actually worried about Sherlock speaking at the funeral. He didn't know how it might affect his best friend.

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	20. Chapter 20

The time had arrived. Irene's funeral. Sherlock had been waiting for this. However, it had come too soon and now he needed to back out. But, he knew he owed it to Irene to show up. To speak for her. To apologise for everything. He had to go.

Sherlock sat at the edge of the bed tying his shoelace. John was waiting for him outside; he'd thought it best to definitely not leave Sherlock alone this day. Sherlock took a look around the room before leaving. All of Irene's things were still there. Her perfume. Her smell. Her snow globe. How was he supposed to get rid of her? He knew that once the funeral was over it would be like she hadn't existed; people would mourn a couple of days after, but soon she'd be forgotten like she'd never walked that earth. He almost cried at the thought, but he managed to control himself. He promised himself he had to get through this one day. For her.

John and Sherlock entered the car. John asked Sherlock how he was doing. Of course, Sherlock didn't reply. He just sat in the car, leaning on the window and staring out into the darkness that was the world without Irene. Knowing that when he got out he'd have to see everybody who loved her. He'd have to see Hamish. He wanted to see him, but he didn't know whether this was the right time; he hadn't seen him since her death and he still wasn't in the right state of mind to take care of him. He felt so guilty.

They arrived. Sherlock didn't want to get out. John kept trying to reassure him; "everything will be ok". How did he know? Sherlock stayed in the car for as long as he could before realising he had to be strong. He placed his hand on the handle. Gradually, he pushed the door and placed his foot on the cold ground. He now realised this was reality; she was dead. This was all real. He stepped out of the car. The cold breeze hit his face like a wave and the darkness surrounded the place. He gradually took more and more steps. He looked up. He felt everyone's eyes on him. Everybody's sympathy aimed towards him. Why? He thought. This was all his fault, he kept thinking to himself. Why should they be sorry for him. It's Irene. She's the one who's under the ground. Right under their feet. He blinked. A single tear ran down his face and he stood frozen for a moment. Then, he felt John pat him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, you can do this." He had to go and speak. He shook his head trying to calm himself. He shivered as he walked to the grave.

Sherlock spoke silently. Some at the front were able to hear, but it was still hard. He didn't want them to hear; what he had to say was for Irene. However, his voice became a little louder when he reminisced about the times they shared. Some began to shed a tear or two, including John. Then, as Sherlock spoke, he began to cry. He told himself he could carry on. He tried. But as he continued, his voice broke and he began to well up and break down. He shook his head and tried to continue, but he just couldn't. Everybody understood. Lestrade and John went to his side and patted his shoulder. They reassured him everything was alright. He tried to continue, and when he made a fault, John or Lestrade would speak for him.

After the funeral, Sherlock sat alone on the park bench. He'd asked John for a moment alone, so John did as was asked. As Sherlock sat thinking about everything, he began to hear a young boy shouting. "Dad!" he heard. He turned. Hamish. Hamish was running at him with both arms open, smiling because he'd finally got to see him. Sherlock smiled a little and stood up. He opened his arms too and let Hamish run into him. They held onto each other for such a long time. "Dad!"

"Hamish... Hamish!" they cried.

"I've missed you."

"I... I've missed you, too. A lot." Sherlock picked Hamish up and sat him on the bench with him. They both sat in silence for a moment before Hamish began to speak.

"Is... Is she really gone?" he looked to his dad. Sherlock ruffled his hair and kissed him on the forehead.

"Yeah... Yes she is..." he began to tear up.

"Do you think she knows I miss her?"

"She knows." Sherlock sniffed. They both knew they were using present tense. They wanted to hold onto her.

"Can I... Can I come home?" Hamish looked up to his father and smiled a little. Sherlock looked at him. He didn't want to break his heart. He didn't want to refuse. He ruffled his hair and brought him closer.

"I want you to... I really, really do..."

"So I can?" Sherlock looked at the ground.

"I... I can't look after you, Hamish." Hamish's smile dropped as his father looked to him. "I am a wreck. And I would make a terrible dad at the moment."

"But, please-"

"Hamish, please... If you came home... I wouldn't be able to help you at all. I can't even take care of myself."

"I don't care!"

"I do, Hamish. If you come home, the chances of you being happy now are small. Tiny. I am being looked after myself, by John and a therapist."

"A therapist?"

"Someone who talks to you when... when you can't get over..." Sherlock couldn't finish. However, Hamish was a smart child, Sherlock didn't have to finish.

"But... but you're a detective... you're a super detective! You'll be better soon. Please, dad."

"These things aren't like your stories, Hamish." Sherlock sighed. "It'll take time.".

Later, Sherlock's parents came over. They gave their son a hug and tried to comfort him anyway possible. Then, they took Hamish. He pleaded to Sherlock to take him home with him. He kept shouting back as Sherlock waved. "Please, dad! Please! I'll be no trouble!" he tugged at Sherlock's coat before being taken. Sherlock's parents did the best they could to be nice to Hamish. As Hamish sulked in the back of his grandparent's car and he was driven away, Sherlock placed his face in his hands and just cried. He couldn't stop any more. Seeing Hamish so desperate to go home with him had broken him even more. He sat on the bench, leaning over his knees, head in hands, and tears pouring out of his eyes. Everybody had left. Well, everyone except John who was waiting by the car. But, Sherlock was all alone on the bench pouring his heart out.

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	21. Chapter 21

Sherlock stumbled inside slowly. He dragged his feet to the bottom step and placed his hand softly onto the banister. He rubbed his face with the other hand and sighed. Then, he slowly pushed himself up each step gradually. The urge to collapse was great, but he managed to get to the top without falling back down. He then continued to drag himself into the living room, but then he fell without any resistance. He closed his eyes immediately and he lay on the floor of his living room.

John had had to get a taxi home because Sherlock had insisted on getting the car on his own. Plus, he'd wanted to go and see Olivia and Mary after the funeral. He saw them there, but he wanted to spend a little bit of time with them. Obviously he wasn't going to be there too long as he knew how devastated Sherlock would be.

He eventually arrived at the flat. Mrs Hudson was there. She'd come back for Irene's funeral and then said she'd stay with Sherlock in the flat until John arrived back home. She'd told her husband and he was waiting for her at home. So, John entered. Before he went to see Sherlock, he went to see Mrs Hudson to see how she was and see if she knew how Sherlock had been while he'd been out. "How's he been?"

"I don't know; I haven't heard him since we came back. I didn't want to disturb him, I thought he'd probably want to be alone." John nodded in agreement.

"I'd best go check on him." They both sighed as John went up the stairs. He didn't bother to knock, he just slowly opened the door and was surprised to see what he did.

Sherlock opened his eyes. John was trying to pick him up. "W... what are you doing?" he asked?

"I'm taking you to bed. You've had a tough day. You need to sleep and try to calm down."

"Calm down? Calm... How can I be calm when the one woman I love has gone?" he screamed and shrugged John off of him. "She was buried today and I can never see her again!" he began to cry. "And... And Hamish! My son... my only son and I told him he can't come home. He... he grabbed me... he begged me to come... to come home and I said no! I said no..." Sherlock could hardly speak. "Everything... Everything's just my fault..." John knelt down and grabbed him. Sherlock could no longer speak because of the tears streaming. John hugged him and tried to calm him down.

John managed to carry to Sherlock to his bedroom and put him to bed. Sherlock actually managed to eventually sleep so John went down to Mrs Hudson. "Will he be alright?" She asked. "I could hear him cry. Sherlock's never cried like that before. In fact, he's never actually cried." John sighed.

"Today was actually a huge step for him. I was worried he might not show up. He hadn't come out of bed since she passed."

"Is he seeing someone?"

"Yeah," John nodded. "They're doing alright, I guess. However, there's still a long way to go, clearly."

"Will he get better?"

"He'll get there." John sighed. "He has to."

"Well, if anyone can, Sherlock Holmes can." she smiled. John smiled back and then let her go home. Then, he went back up to the living room and waited for Sherlock to wake.

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	22. Chapter 22

John soon went back into Sherlock's room. What he found was not what he had expected, and it was a sight he hadn't seen in years; Sherlock had a needle in his hand. He was sat beneath the window, leaning against the wall in his pyjamas and dressing gown, staring at the needle, sorrowfully. It was clear he hadn't injected himself yet, but in the state he was in, John didn't know whether he'd actually do it. He approached him slowly and carefully, reaching his hands out slowly to offer Sherlock a lift up. Sherlock didn't look at him. "What's... what's going on, Sherlock?" Sherlock didn't reply, just continued to stare at the needle in his hand, which was getting closer and closer to his skin. "Sherlock, please. You don't have to do this. It's not going to help you in anyway."

"It always helps."

"It won't. Maybe... maybe you'll relax for a while. Maybe you'll forget everything for a bit. But it's all going to come back again and again. Even if you take it."

"What if I keep taking it?" John sighed and got closer and closer.

"Then you are seriously risking your health-"

"Do I seem like I care about _my _health?" Sherlock turned to John. "Look at me, John. Look at how I used to be... And look at me now. I'm ruined. I've lost my wife... I can't take care of Hamish... Nobody can fix me. It's over." Sherlock stared back at the needle.

"It's not _over._ When you faked your death, I thought it was over. But I didn't give up on myself. I looked for something else. Because I knew it wasn't _over. _Please, you have to believe you can be fixed; you can be Sherlock Holmes again."

"But... what if I can't?"

"You can! I believe in you, Sherlock. If anyone can do this, you can." John had, by this point, gone to sit by Sherlock's side. He had his hand on Sherlock's shoulder, and he watched him carefully. "And Hamish believes in you." Sherlock turned to him. "He still needs you, Sherlock. Don't do this. Don't give up. Try. Try not just for yourself, Sherlock, but your son." Sherlock looked at John, moved by his little speech. He looked back at the needle, and then slowly handed it to John. He suddenly began crying afterwards and buried his head in his arms. John immediately got rid of the needle and helped Sherlock get back into bed. "I'll give Dr Burke a call, yeah?" Sherlock just nodded.

Dr Burke arrived just an hour later and had a long talk with Sherlock. John had mentioned the whole episode before he arrived, to which Dr Burke replied "still, he realised he shouldn't do it. That shows that there is still hope; he can make it.". John just smiled and then took him to Sherlock's room. He left instantly so he didn't intrude.

"How was he?" John said as soon as he heard Sherlock's bedroom door close. Dr Burke smiled to John and nodded his head as he spoke.

"Well, he has opened up, and soon I'm sure he'll be able to get more used to things. Obviously he still needs to be looked after, but he's shown determination; he wants the help." John beamed and then shook Dr Burke's hand tightly. "He's still very down, though, so you have to watch him. He seems to want my help now, but I don't know if he'll change his mind and have another episode like today. I don't know if he will decide to actually give up, Sherlock seems like a very changeable man and, while I'm pleased with the progress we made today, I'm also very concerned and worried just in case he decides he can't keep up with it any more." John nodded understandingly, but his smile still faded as he began to realise everything could still go pear shaped.

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	23. Chapter 23

Dr Burke came round a lot in the month that followed. John went back home as Sherlock continued to get better and better, and soon Hamish was allowed to return to his home and his dad. Both of them were thrilled to see one another. They'd decided to spend that whole day just watching videos and talking about things Hamish had done while at his grandparents. Sherlock had ordered in pizza from Hamish's favourite fast food restaurant and then they both sat and watched TV. Both of them laughing, but Sherlock was silently panicking. This was because he was returning back to his old life. He was going back and he loved it, but it was hard to get back into the routine of things. It had been so long since he'd done this. So long since he'd been with Hamish that it was hard for him to cope. Obviously he hid it very well from Hamish, and he also hid the fact that he felt bad for feeling the way he did. However, he told himself everything would just go back to normal soon. Everything would fit into place like it used to. Even though Irene was no longer with them.

The next week arrived. "You can do this. You can do this." Sherlock continuously ran over and over in his head as he made Hamish breakfast before school. Hamish came running out of his room, smiling because he was finally with his dad. They hugged each other tight, and Sherlock smiled nervously. He was worried he was going to get it all wrong. He thought everything was so sudden. Sherlock was worried he was going to get something wrong; he had Hamish to look after, it was his first day back at work, and he still felt uneasy. However, he felt he had to make it up to Hamish. All those days in bed, wasted. He had to do something for his son.

John came over to see how they were both doing, and to drive Hamish to school. Sherlock had decided he'd best not to drive at the moment, so John had agreed to take Hamish to school for the first week or so. Before he did so, he spoke to Sherlock in private. "So, how are you holding up?"

"I, uh, I'm doing ok... yeah..." Sherlock smiled nervously, and John could see he was panicking inside.

"It's going to be fine. Trust me." John patted him on the back. "Right, Hamish," he said, turning back to the living room and smiling. "Are you ready to go?" Hamish nodded and quickly ran up to his dad, squeezing him tight.

"I'll see you later." he grinned, then he ran out of the door. Sherlock smiled softly, but his smile slowly died as he worried about the rest of the day. John turned to him.

"You're going to be fine." he smiled, turning back to the door.

Sherlock sat at his desk, waiting for John's return. He was shaking a little, wondering if Hamish was alright or maybe something had happened. He shut his eyes tight trying to stop himself thinking of horrible things. He thought about work and everything and how much he'd missed. He couldn't stop panicking and panicking. Nothing would calm him down and it was driving him insane. He seemed pale with worry and he was in his own world. John walked in. Sherlock quickly opened his eyes. "Are you alright, Sherlock?" John asked, rushing to him. Sherlock nodded and stood up.

"Just a bit shaky, but I'll be fine."

"Ok... Just remember, I've got your back. And you don't have to work today if you don't want to."

"No, no. If I'm not ready now then I'll never be ready. I just need to move on." John nodded. "Anyway, was Hamish ok?"

"Yes," John smiled. "Of course, he got to school just fine."

"Thank you." John nodded and smiled, and then they both grabbed their coats and left for Scotland Yard.

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	24. Chapter 24

Lestrade welcomed Sherlock back with a huge smile on his face. He shook Sherlock's hand as he walked in and walked him to his office. "How are you?" he smiled.

"I'm alright, thank you." Sherlock smiled politely.

"Are you sure you're alright to work on this case?" Sherlock nodded. "Alright, but if you can't carry on or something, just let me know. I don't mind if you need to go home."

"No, no," Sherlock shook his head. "I'd rather be doing this. I need to do something.". John just sat quietly, making sure Sherlock was absolutely fine.

"Fine then, let's go.". Lestrade began to describe the case. Sherlock listened intently to every single detail, every single word. He didn't think about anything else but the case; back to normal. He finally began to feel normal, he began to feel less worried and more powerful.

They all left the building and went into Lestrade's car to get to the crime scene. Sherlock was a little nervous in the car, however. He held on tight to the door every time they turned or something. He tried to forget about it all though; erase it from his head. Unfortunately, the memories just wouldn't go so easily.

He left the car feeling incredibly uneasy now, he felt like he was being defeated without a fair try. That moment in Lestrade's office was the only moment he felt like himself; he felt safe. But now, that moment had passed and he'd gone back to panicked Sherlock.

They entered the room. A few people were standing over the body which they all saw as they walked in. Lestrade and John walked around it, but Sherlock stood staring for a minute. He began to realise that it maybe was too early for him to start work again, especially this work. He saw the body, dead, lifeless, and his head began to spin. "What have you got? Anything?" Lestrade asked, not realising that this was far too much for the consulting detective to bear.

Everything had become to much for the consulting detective. He was beginning to lose it. His eyes flew from person to person, and from the body to Lestrade standing above it. They all stared at him, eagerly waiting for an answer. He began to shiver and shake, he started losing his balance and getting confused. He also began to speak, but not proper words or sentences, he wasn't making any sense to anybody. They all stared, confused by his actions. He went pale and his breathing gradually became heavier and heavier. "Are you ok?" Lestrade's voice was echoed in Sherlock's head. He couldn't reply. His voice was taken over and his head too. He was having a panic attack and nothing would stop. John realised what was happening as Sherlock began to shake more and more, and his body became light. Suddenly, his eyes rolled into the back of his. John saw and ran to him before he managed to hit the ground. Lestrade shouted for everybody to leave the room and he sat next to John who had Sherlock lying unconscious in his arms. He quickly but gently lay him down on to the floor. "I need water." John spoke fast. "I need water now!" Lestrade rushed to go and find some as John tried to wake Sherlock up. In a hurry Lestrade returned with a bottle full of ice cold water, and John threw it all over Sherlock's face. That woke him up. He took a quick breath in and realised where he was. He screamed when he woke up because of the pain and the worries and the horrible, horrible memories. He panicked and John tried to calm him down. "Don't worry. Don't worry, you're safe, Sherlock. You're safe. John soothed Sherlock, but Sherlock still shivered.

John took Sherlock home and to Sherlock threw himself down onto the sofa. Sherlock lay, still shivering. He cried a little because he was so annoyed and frustrated that he couldn't get through the day. He couldn't do one simple thing. He couldn't live the life he had before. John sat beside him, comforting him. "You're alright now. You're alright." John repeated it over and over, and it wasn't just for Sherlock's benefit. He was worried he was to blame for this, because he had let Sherlock go in; he knew that Sherlock was worried and scared. However, he never had any idea how scared. "I'm going to call Dr Burke to come over and we're going to sort this out. We will help you." Sherlock didn't respond. "Honestly, you will be the same man as you were before. I swear."

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_**Will update soon :) Pleeeeeeeeeeease leave a review just to tell me whether you like it/dislike it/hate it or whatever. Reviews = Great :D**_


	25. Chapter 25

"Dr Burke can't come until four," John said, looking at his watch. "Do you want me to stay with you?" Sherlock, who was now sat up, shook his head. He'd straightened himself up now; tried to pull himself together. "Are you sure?"

"I'm fine. I just... I just need a bit more practise." Sherlock smiled nervously, worrying that it was too late.

"Of course," John just smiled. "Do you want me to pick Hamish up?"

"If you wouldn't mind... Could he go to your house? I don't want him here to see me like this. I'm feeling better, but I'm still a bit shaken, and Dr Burke will be coming round-"

"Don't worry, he can come." John patted his friend's shoulder. "I think Olivia has a little crush on him anyway." The pair smirked a little. Sherlock looked up to John.

"Thank you, John, for everything." John shook his head. "No, honestly, you've really helped me. And I'm so sorry for keeping you from your family. I'm so grateful for everything you've done and I'll do anything to repay you." John was speechless. Sherlock had never been like that before, not really. Just that thanks was enough for John, so he smiled politely. "When I'm properly back on my feet, I will repay you." They both smiled to each other for a minute and there was silence.

"Well, I'd better be off, need to pick Hamish and Olivia up." John smiled, standing up. Sherlock stayed sat down and bid his friend goodbye. He watched him leave and then threw himself back so he slumped on the sofa. He sighed deeply and stared around the room. Everything so empty. He felt so broken. So down. However, he really wanted to be helped; to be fixed.

Soon, Sherlock decided to make himself a drink. He'd been lying on the sofa for an hour or so and he couldn't take it any more. He was so lonely and desperate. So, he pushed himself up and began to make a drink. Only he'd made two by accident, forgetting for a moment there was nobody else. No John. No Irene. He stared at the drinks sat in front of him. His face growing angrier and angrier due to the loneliness and the emptiness of the flat without Irene. He picked up the cup and threw it to the floor in a fit of rage. He seemed shocked as soon as he'd done it. His heart raced as he stared down at the broken glass. He realised what he'd done. Why he'd done it.

Dr Burke soon arrived, a little earlier than expected. He knocked, but there was no reply. He knocked again and still nothing. He then found that the door was unlocked, so he let himself in. He walked into the living room, and then into the kitchen where he found Sherlock sat distraught, glass everywhere, and a wound in Sherlock's hand. He didn't hesitate to pick Sherlock up and take him into the living room. "Where are your bandages?" he asked quickly. "In the first draw on your left as you walk in the kitchen." Sherlock replied. Immediately Dr Burke went to get the bandages and he aided Sherlock's hand as blood ran from it.

"What happened?" Dr Burke asked after he'd helped Sherlock and they'd sat down peacefully.

"I... I don't know." Sherlock sighed.

"Start from the beginning."

"I guess I just panicked. Today was just too much... I couldn't handle it. Everybody was counting on me. Hamish was counting on me. And I just let them all down. I let him down."

"How?"

"I had a panic attack at work. I had to be brought home because I couldn't cope."

"That's normal, Sherlock. Honestly. It was your first day back into the real world, of course things are going to go wrong."

"But, I just wanted everything to go back to the way it all was."

"I know. Everybody does. Everybody thinks that it will, because they feel a bit better. But even Sherlock Holmes can't get over things like this that quickly. To heal takes time. Yes, things break. Yes, it can be tough to fix them. Sometimes it can feel like you're getting absolutely nowhere, but they will eventually fix. All the pieces will fit back into place."

"But that's not all of it... I know I need practise... But just before you came... I made two drinks..." Sherlock sighed.

"What?"

"I made two drinks; for me and for... for _her." _

"Ah."

"I don't know why. I don't know. I just forgot. I don't know what happened." Sherlock shook his head. "And then I just got angry because of the horrible day I've had and because I made two, and I just lost it so I... I smashed it."

"Sherlock, listen to me. Things like this happen. It's all hard to get used to. The normal things like phoning them, or making drinks for each other. They're hard to stop. You're so used to doing it, it's hard to get out of the habit. You can't give it up. Nobody wants to give it up because it's like getting rid of them." Sherlock began to understand. "It happens to everyone, you're human, Sherlock." Dr Burke looked around them both and began to inspect everything. "I'm going to give you some advice, Sherlock. Now, you have to listen to me. Listen very carefully. You have to let her go. And by that, I also mean you have to let her move out of here." he looked around the flat.

"What do you mean?"

"It's easy to say you let someone go, but if their possessions are still around you, you can't let go. You can keep their spirit alive in your heart, of course, but you can't get over her if you have all of her things surrounding you." he sighed.

"But, but... Where would I put all of it? I can't get rid of it."

"I'm not saying get rid of it. I'm saying put it in the loft, or something."

"I don't know if I can..."

"She's not going to come back, Sherlock. You keeping all of her things like this... it makes it seem like she's on holiday, like she'll return. That will never become a reality, I'm incredibly sorry that it won't, but you have to face the truth. You can't keep living like she's coming back; like she's going to walk through the door and come back into your world. Because life isn't like that. She's gone, and you need to try and accept it."

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_**Will update soon :) Pleeeeeeeeeeease leave a review just to tell me whether you like it/dislike it/hate it or whatever. Reviews = Great :D**_


	26. Chapter 26

**A Month Later**

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Sherlock opened his eyes to the world; what it was really like. You were each dealt a hand of cards, you can't choose what you're given, and that's how your life will be. Those that have died, they will stay dead. And those that live on, they have to live with the memory of those that have passed. They remember everything good about them, and their final moments. They remember their smile. Their beautiful faces. Their happiness. And the look in their eyes when they see the one they love. That look, for Sherlock, was the best thing about Irene he could remember. He would never let go of that memory. However, he realised it was time to let go of her possessions. To bury them. To let her go.

He and Hamish woke up and began to get to work. A lot of Irene's things were placed in containers. Some of the things like pictures of her, they kept, but not many. Then, they took the containers (not many as she hardly owned much) out into the garden. They'd found a place for them to be buried and they began to put them in, as they'd already dug it up the day before. It took them most of the day, but they'd finally managed to put it in, and then cover it. They also decided to decorate it, with Irene's favourite flowers (orchids) and they made it so that that spot was just hers. A little memory spot for her.

"Dad, are you sure we should have done this?" Sherlock looked down to his son who he had his arm around.

"I wasn't at first, Hamish." Sherlock smiled. "But look at how nice this looks, hey? This way, we can carry on. We can carry your mother's memory like this."

"But all of her stuff is there."

"We can't keep holding onto her, Hamish. If we kept all of her things inside the house, we would have never let her go. It was hard to carry on. But now... now she has her own little place here. We can carry on with our lives, and I swear to you, we will never forget her. We can always remember her, even if her things are here. If they were a thousand feet below us we would still remember her. We may have put her things here, but we can't get rid of her memory from here," he pointed to Hamish's heart. "Now we can live fully, like she would have wanted. And she can rest peacefully." They both stood by the little spot in the garden in silence.

They stayed outside all evening, they even ate there and they reminisced about all the fun they all had together. Both of them were happy at last. Sherlock no longer felt to blame. He no longer felt panicked. And he no longer felt like he should give up.

Hamish eventually fell asleep on Sherlock's lap as they sat by the little spot. Sherlock smiled at him as he stroked his hair, and then picked himself and Hamish up. He then looked down at the flowers and smiled. "Don't say anything," he smiled to himself. "I love you.". He closed his eyes for a moment, remembering how she'd said that to him the first time they'd kissed properly.

"Don't say anything," she'd said, and she then kissed him softly and passionately. Then, she whispered as she let her lips slip gently off his "I love you.".

Sherlock took Hamish inside and lay him in his own bed. As he did, he turned to Irene's side. He noticed the snow globe sat on the bedside table. He wrapped Hamish up in the blanket and went over. He picked it up and grinned. Then, he shook it gently. The snow finally began to fall. It was finally alive.

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**The End**

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**_Thanks for reading :) I will be making other fanfics, maybe later this week or in the summer because of exams and stuff. If any of you have any requests or anything just PM me and I'll try my best to get back to you. Thanks :) Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease leave a review, please :)_  
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